


Kingsman Studios

by clokkerfoot



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Bisexual Character, Classism, Dancing, Dirty Thoughts, F/M, Flirting, Friendship, Homophobic Language, M/M, POV Alternating, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Tango, Vague Eggsy/Charlie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5575945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clokkerfoot/pseuds/clokkerfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a well-respected dance instructor at Kingsman Studios, a prestigious dance academy. Eggsy is a self-taught street kid who does dance covers on YouTube.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kingsman Studios

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this: http://persephoneggsy.tumblr.com/post/123454889628/dance-instructor-harry-au // SO MUCH LOVE to persephoneggsy for giving me the outline for this fic <3
> 
> Also, a warning: I am not a dancer. This might not all be accurate.

_ Eggsy _

 

Eggsy had just finished filming his hundredth dance cover. He was absolutely drenched in sweat from head to toe after dancing his fucking ass off for nearly two hours, and his feet were  _ burning _ . 

The song,  _ Come On Eileen _ , had been playing on loop as Eggsy practiced his routine over and over ready to perform for the camera. He'd been saving the song for his hundredth video because he'd had the perfect routine planned for years, and he wanted to use it for a special occasion. Even though he was aching all over from the hour or so of dancing, the bouncy addictive tones of the song were making him want to dance again as he watched the video back.

He bobbed his head to the opening riffs of the song as he stared at his video-self. The framing was perfect, and he hadn't fucked up in the part he usually did; there was a particular fast beat-increase three and a half minutes into it, and Eggsy usually tripped up as the music sped up. He had to perform perfectly consecutive pirouettes, then jump into the air and split his legs in midair, before landing and switching styles. He fucking  _ nailed it _ . 

He closed the playback, trying his very best not to smile - because  _ damn _ , he looked fucking  _ great -  _ and set the video to upload to YouTube after adding a caption and description. His last video had gotten nearly half a million views after it had been spread across all kinds of social media, and YouTube had sent him a congratulatory little email.

Looking at the small progress bar filling up, Eggsy knew that this video would get him more than an email. 

-

_ Harry _

 

"Alright, everyone, that's enough for today."

Harry rolled his shoulders back and popped his knuckles as he watched his dance students file out of the studio, all of them shining with sweat and sporting wide smiles. 

He had carefully selected the students for his personal sessions, rather than letting Chester decide, as he felt that no person, young or old, could really be a successful dancer unless they truly enjoyed their work. He wanted no students who were there on obligation alone. Thankfully, every student in his studio thoroughly enjoyed dancing, and were always pleased at the end of a session.

Harry himself had primarily taken up the role of teacher at Kingsman Studios in the last few years, and so hardly had to learn new dances or routines. He was grateful for the relaxed workload, as - no matter what Merlin said - his age was catching up with him, albeit slowly, and he was simply not cut out for the more modern, faster routines. 

He sighed and toed off his dance shoes, then stepped into his regular Oxfords. His dance clothes were damp with sweat and clinging to his underarms and chest, so he headed towards the changing rooms. Once he entered, his students immediately stopped talking and scattered from the crowd they had been in.

Harry raised an eyebrow. What on earth were they hiding?

Roxy, his star student, was sat on a bench half-dressed, holding an iPad, from which music was quietly emitting. She was staring at Harry blankly, and for once Harry understood the expression  _ rabbit in headlights _ . 

"What are you watching?"

"Nothing," Roxy replied, far too fast. Harry frowned and took a seat next to her on the bench. She locked the iPad and diverted her gaze to her bare feet.

"Show me."

She sighed and angled the iPad towards him, then unlocked it. There was a young man on the screen, dressed in drop-crotch grey sweatpants and a tight black vest top that was clinging to his chest as he moved. He was rolling his head in time with his hips as he moved around the frame of the camera to the beat of the music - Harry recognised it as  _ Come On Eileen _ \- and his entire body was jerking and twisting to the rhythm.

The boy, whoever he was, clearly had a talent for dance. He was wearing ballet shoes on his feet, the awful cotton white ones beginners wore that hardly protected their feet, but he remained mostly en pointe even as he swept through several ballet motions. His hair was loose, and after a particularly extravagant motion, his fringe fell over his eyes. He smiled when his vision was blocked, and closed his eyes. 

Harry felt his lips part in surprise at the boy's sheer faith in his own body, especially when he extended and retracted his auxiliary leg repeatedly for several pirouettes as the music touched onto a crescendo. His arms were crooked or extended according to the position of his legs, and his form was absolutely infallible.

The music suddenly sped up an extortionate amount, and his body extended towards the ceiling, auxiliary foot against his shin, his arms up in fifth position. He performed one final turn, and as the music peaked he pushed himself into a brief run, then leapt into the air for a flawless  _ jeté _ , his legs perfectly straight in midair.  

"He's good, isn't he?" Harry heard Roxy say from his right. He was oddly distracted by the way the boy's body was moving so fluidly, and he could hardly drag his attention away from the video long enough to nod in response. 

The boy was talented, to say the least, and he quickly shifted his dance style from pure ballet to a wild solo version of the Lindy Hop. The music began to quieten down, and Harry found himself wishing it were longer. He wanted to see more of the boy's unique dancing. His muscles were stretching and tightening with every movement, every drawn-out line obvious through the tight material of his vest top, and Harry couldn't stop staring.

As the song drew to a close the boy's actions slowed accordingly, and as silence fell he stepped towards the camera and took a bow. He glanced up from the bow, his sweat-soaked hair plastered to his forehead, his cheeks flushed red with exertion. His lips curved up into a mischievous smile, he winked once, and Harry blinked blankly at the screen as it faded to black.

His expression was downright provocative, and Harry wondered if the boy was naturally that flirtatious or if he was acting up for the camera. 

Harry exhaled and leant back against the wall as Roxy closed the video, "Who was that?"

"Eggsy Unwin. He's been dancing on YouTube for a few years now," Roxy explained. She rose to her feet and began to remove the rest of her dance clothes. Harry averted his gaze out of respect for her privacy, "He's not been signed by a dance company yet, probably because he changes his style so often that a single studio can't pick him up."

Roxy was correct, as usual; Eggsy's style was such a unique mix of several dance forms that a ballet studio couldn't sign him as much as a street performance studio couldn't sign him. Kingsman Studios taught different styles, from pure ballet to swing - Harry himself was a ballroom dance teacher - and Harry suspected that Eggsy would settle in well as a student under all the various forms.

Harry hummed to himself and returned his eyes back to Roxy once she was dressed, "Perhaps we should sign him."

Roxy actually looked surprised as she slid her jacket over her shoulders, "You want to sign Eggsy?"

"Eggsy Unwin of Kingsman Studios," Harry mused as he crossed his legs and folded his hands across his knee, "Sounds rather catchy."

Roxy nodded in agreement and looped her bag over her torso, "Well, I think you should speak to Chester first. But if you do sign him,  _ please _ let him dance with the Galahad troop. Don't let Lancelot or Percival get him."

Harry smiled, "I wouldn't dream of it."

-

_ Eggsy _

 

Eggsy’s  _ Come on Eileen  _ video had reached over three hundred thousand views in the 24 hours since he’d uploaded it, and he’d decided to celebrate by booking a real dance studio in the centre of London for an hour.

He couldn’t usually afford to book Portwenn dance studio, but he was so fucking appreciative of the chance to dance on a  _ real _ ballet floor, rather than the shitty floor in his usual haunt, an ancient studio in a building that had been condemned for years. Eggsy’s mum didn’t know about his dancing - or, if she did, she never said anything - and Eggsy was in no rush to tell her. His mates had taken the piss out of him when they found out.

Eggsy honestly didn’t give a shit. He was a fucking  _ great  _ dancer.

So, when he stepped into the silent studio and set his usual playlist to play, he happily watched his reflection in the full wall mirrors as he ran through his warm-up paces. 

He mostly danced ballet, and even though it was maybe the most feminine of his dance styles, he liked it the most. Of course, he liked dancing swing and disco and a billion other forms that he'd taught himself over the years, but ballet was by far his favourite.

Eggsy went through a song entirely dancing tap freestyle, and even though he was wearing his ballet flats he still heard the faint contact between his foot and the floor, and he was bang on time with the music. He hummed the song under his breath as he shifted across the room to the rhythm.

He wasn't exactly sweaty yet, and although his legs were plenty loosened from the tap, he really wanted a jumpy song to come on so he could get his arms working. The song trailed off, and Eggsy used the down-time to bounce on his heels, stretching his arms up over his shoulders.

The music changed to the now-familiar  _ Come On Eileen _ , and Eggsy immediately fell into his learned routine. It was, surprisingly, exactly the type of song he’d been hoping for.

He nodded his head as he moved along an invisible line to the starting tempo, then as the instruments and voice came into it, he set about performing his usual moves, his hips rocking gently from side to side when the violin dipped in pitch three times. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror as he moved. He fucking loved this song.

His spine began to prickle with sweat as he switched briefly to a solo version of a Scottish country dance he’d picked up online, his body weaving around imaginary dancers.

The song began to hit a crescendo of increasingly fast beats, and Eggsy prepared himself for the  _ brutal  _ pirouetting that was about to happen. He propped himself up onto his toes, threw his weight in a circle, and focused on turning his body in time with the beat of the music. He exhaled and inhaled sharply a few times as gravity took control and he spun freely, kicking his free leg out to encourage his momentum when it dipped. The drumbeat hit a violent peak and he collapsed into a short run, then leapt through the air, landing hard on the balls of his feet.

He barely had time to congratulate his sweet performance, as he had a few more moves to throw out before he could finish. The song died down and Eggsy stepped forward for his usual fancy-arse finale. He put one arm in front of his stomach, the other flat against the small of his back, and bent over into a neat bow. 

"Eggsy."

Eggsy nearly shit himself when the deep voice suddenly echoed through the studio, and when he looked up at the mirror, he saw a man in a suit and sunglasses stood in the corner of the studio, his weight on an umbrella, cool as anything.

Who the fuck?

Eggsy stood up straight and stared at the reflection of the man, "Who're you?"

The corner of man's lips turned up into a smirk that Eggsy wanted to punch off his face, then he stepped away from the wall, "The man who is going to change your life."

Eggsy turned around to face the weirdo, and crossed his arms over his chest, "That ain't an answer."

The man had the fucking audacity to raise his eyebrow like  _ Eggsy _ was the one who'd said something ridiculous. 

"My name is Harry Hart. Perhaps you've heard of me," Eggsy shook his head in response. What a dumb fucking name, "I am an instructor with Kingsman Studios. Perhaps you've heard of Kingsman."

If Eggsy's jaw could've hit the floor right then, it would've. Of course he'd heard of Kingsman Studios. They were the most infamous dance studio in London. Fuck that, they were the most infamous dance studio in  _ England _ . All the kids of the posh upper-class twats ended up in Kingsman for at least a year or two, and it was ridiculously out of Eggsy's reach.

"I heard of it, yeah," Eggsy shuffled his feet and unfolded his arms, "You say you work for them, eh?"

"I do work for Kingsman, yes. I teach a troop of young adults, much like yourself, how to dance at a professional level," the man, Harry, was gradually getting closer to Eggsy with every word that came out of his mouth, and Eggsy was conscious of every drop of sweat on his skin, "I'd like to offer you a place in Kingsman Studios, all expenses and fees paid for. Consider it a scholarship, based on your innate gift for dance. We provide year-round accommodation and 24/7 access to various studios. Do you accept?"

Eggsy realised that his mouth was hanging open almost comically, and he pressed his lips together so fast that his teeth clacked together. Harry's mouth quirked up at that, and Eggsy felt hot all over.

What the fuck was with the intense stare that he was giving Eggsy?

"Do you accept my invitation to join Kingsman, Eggsy?" Harry repeated. He raised his arm and pulled at a loose thread on Eggsy's vest. Eggsy swallowed hard at that bizarrely intimate action, suddenly feeling like this stranger was planning on eating him for dinner.

"I, uh," Eggsy struggled with his words, his mouth not quite able to produce sound as Harry's fingers tugged at the thread, and he felt so fucking jacked just from that small motion that he could hardly think straight.

"This is a one time offer, Eggsy," Harry continued, his face  _ so fucking close _ to Eggsy that he wanted to scream or push him away or snog him or  _ something _ , "Kingsman rarely offers scholarships, and never to street dancers like you."

Eggsy had been waiting for Harry's man-of-the-people façade to break down, and it finally had.

So, he was a posh prick, just like the rest of them.

"Eh?" Eggsy took a step away from Harry, and although he could feel the cold of the mirror mere inches from his back, he stood his ground, "Street dancers like me?"

Harry tilted his head to the side, "You're hardly a professional dancer, are you? You're just a street dancer."

"Just because I wasn't raised with a stick up my arse don't mean I'm a common street dancer, bruv," Eggsy snapped, his arms automatically folding over his chest again, "You've seen my clips on YouTube, or else you wouldn't be here tryin' to recruit me. You  _ know _ I ain't just a street dancer. I'm fuckin' good at what I do, and if you think you can jus' swan in here with your fancy umbrella and tell me that I'm  _ just _ a fucking  _ street dancer _ , you can damn well think again."

"I didn't mean to offend you," Harry apologised, looking just like a beaten puppy and Eggsy didn't know if he wanted to hit him or hug him. Probably both. 

"Well, you did," Eggsy leant against the mirror and stared at Harry, "Don't think I wanna spend my time hanging around with folk like you, Harry," he pursed his lips and tilted his head, "After all, I'm just a street dancer. Can't be seen associatin' with you posh lot."

Harry sighed and moved his sodding posh umbrella from his left hand to his right, then leant his weight on it again. Eggsy just stared at him.

"The offer remains open. There will be a formal dance interview for all the potential candidates for the scholarship position at Kingsman Studios on Savile Row at ten AM tomorrow morning. You're welcome to attend," Harry turned on his heel and headed for the door.

Eggsy shook his head and stepped away from the mirror. He resumed his position in the centre of the floor, and relaxed into a neutral stance, watching the mirror as Harry opened the door. Harry paused for a moment, his hand on the handle. Eggsy didn't know if he wanted him to fuck off, or if he wanted him to stay.

"I do wish you would attend the interview, Eggsy," Harry said over his shoulder, "You're the most promising dancer I've ever seen in my life."

Eggsy didn't answer, just glared at his reflection in the mirror. And then Harry was gone, leaving Eggsy alone and fucking overwhelmed. The song changed, and Eggsy started a standard set of steps, busying his noisy mind with dance.


	2. The Dance Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Harry's POV this time.
> 
> Oh, and the next chapters won't be published so close together from here on out. I just wanted to get this one up. The next chapter will be split into two halves, too, despite all being Eggsy's POV.
> 
> Enjoy!

_ Harry _

 

Harry had been thoroughly distracted by thoughts of Eggsy Unwin for an embarrassing length of time. After leaving the Portwenn dance studio the previous night, he'd headed straight home and spent the evening watching Eggsy's various dance covers online. 

Even the next morning, as he prepared breakfast for himself and gathered his more formal clothes for the day, he found himself opening and reopening Eggsy’s YouTube channel, flicking through the videos, oddly captivated by the way Eggsy’s body moved with the music. He had a talent for swing, lyrical, ballet, and tap. In other forms he excelled beyond any normal self-taught dancer, but he could undoubtedly specialise in either swing or ballet.

If Eggsy succeeded in his interview, Harry could teach him ballroom dance. No, not  _ if _ he succeeded.  _ When _ he succeeded.

Harry was currently sat in a chair behind a desk, waiting for the dance interviews to begin, and just  _ thinking  _ about Eggsy was making him anxious. Or at least he  _ thought _ it was anxiety that was making his stomach tight. It didn’t help that he was wearing his tailored suit, something he was not accustomed to wearing on a day-to-day basis in the hot studio.

The heads of the Percival and Lancelot troops, along with Merlin and Chester, were all going to be judging the potential candidates alongside Harry. He was a bundle of nerves, as he knew that if Eggsy did not succeed in his interview another studio would pick him up, and Kingsman would lose the talented boy forever. 

Harry didn't want to lose such a great talent to another studio. Especially not to Valentine.

Kingsman had never had a true equal in terms of dance talent until Valentine Dance Academy was formed in 2012. They'd progressed so quickly with their lead dancer, a young woman called Gazelle, that Kingsman had had to sign a whole new group of dancers, just to be able to compete.

There was a global freeform dance competition called  _ Espion Globale  _ coming up that year, and Kingsman were searching rather relentlessly for a duo of dancers who could take on Gazelle and her eponymous dance partner and instructor, Valentine.

Harry and Merlin, undeniably Kingsman’s best dancers, would’ve taken to the stage, but they wanted their students to represent them, unlike Valentine Dance Academy. They rarely entered their students into major competitions. Harry huffed at the thought of the  _ pretentious _ Richmond Valentine.

"Are you quite alright?" Merlin asked from Harry’s left. Harry blinked and dragged himself out of his thoughts. He had huffed aloud, he realised.

Harry nodded, "Just a tad on edge, that's all."

"Why?"

"It’s always stressful, signing new dancers," Harry admitted, mostly honestly, "Especially when they’re going to be in  _ my  _ troop. God knows we need a breath of fresh air, but I don’t want another talentless child to be my newest protégé, just because they’re from an affluent family."

Merlin let out a quiet laugh, and leant forward, crossing his arms on top of the table, "At least you get to pick your dancers," he sighed melodramatically, and Harry couldn't help but smile, "I don't even have a real dance troop, and Chester hardly allows me to pick my music, let alone my students. Arsehole."

"I heard that!" Chester barked from the end of the table.

"I said it loudly!" Merlin snapped back. They had never really gotten along, Chester and Merlin, which was slightly ironic considering Chester's stage name was 'Arthur'. According to Arthurian legend, for which Kingsman was named, Merlin and Arthur were as thick as thieves. That certain irony never failed to amuse Harry.

Chester opened his mouth to snarl a reply, but the door to the studio opened, and several young men and women filed in. They all lined up against the far wall, and Harry scanned their nervous, pallor faces. He spotted a few younger siblings of his own students, and even a few dancers he'd seen at previous dance interviews, but there was no sign of Eggsy.

Harry exhaled and sat back in his seat, feeling rather glum. He'd been counting on Eggsy to come to the interview. Chester stood from his seat, then walked around to the front of the table. His face was plastered with a welcoming grin that Harry knew was beyond fake.

"Welcome, potential Kingsman Studios students!" Chester began, his voice booming rather aggressively in the large dance studio, "Today, you shall--"

The door to the studio opened with a loud bang, and a body fell through it. Harry stared at the figure, and he practically felt his heart leap when he saw that it was Eggsy Unwin.

"Looks like your boy came after all, Harry," Merlin said quietly. Harry didn't even ask how Merlin knew that Harry and Eggsy were acquainted. Merlin and Roxy had become awfully close recently, and Harry had no doubt that she had told Merlin about Eggsy.

"Shit, I'm so fuckin' sorry I'm late," Eggsy swore profusely, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths, "I didn't miss the interview thingy, did I?"

Chester actually stiffened, his shoulders hard, "You are here for the Kingsman Studios dance interview?"

Eggsy nodded wildly as he took his place on the end of the line of prospective students, "Yep, Harry invited me," Eggsy pointed at Harry, his finger almost accusatory.

Chester turned to Harry, his expression cold, "You invited this... young man, to the dance interview, Galahad?"

Harry nodded. Chester looked like he was going to pounce on him, but he turned back to the students with no comment. Honestly, Chester was such a snob, always insisting on upperclass students. Kingsman needed the influence of someone who hadn't been born into dance, who hadn't been handed their opportunities on a silver platter, and Eggsy was the only candidate lined up against the wall that fit that description.

Harry felt that he had been rather forward the previous day, when he had toyed with a loose thread on Eggsy's clothes. The young man intrigued him beyond belief, and not just because he was a phenomenal dancer.

Chester continued his welcoming speech, then, one by one, the candidates stepped forward and performed a dance of their choosing. Harry took a shine to a young red-haired girl who performed a touching lyrical solo dance, and Merlin practically shivered with glee when a boy with his platinum blond hair tied up into a bun came forward and did a short but energetic ballet dance.

Even though all the prospective students were talented and a pleasure to watch, Harry's gaze kept flicking over to Eggsy. Eggsy was, unlike the other students who were yet to perform, actually watching the dancers. His eyes followed them as they moved across the room, and he had an impressed smile on his face. 

After several more dancers, it was finally Eggsy's turn to dance. He stepped into the middle of the floor, and his entire body relaxed into a neutral stance. He was wearing the same drop-crotch pants that he had been wearing in the  _ Come On Eileen _ dance cover, and he stuck out like a sore thumb against the other students, all of whom were in professional attire. 

The assistant started the music, and Harry was startled - but not surprised; after all, it was  _ Eggsy _ \- when a voice erupted from the mounted speakers. All the other dancers had used voiceless songs, mainly classical acoustic tracks. 

Eggsy gently moved in time with the music, and as the voice dragged on, he pulled his limbs along at a similar pace. He was dancing contemporary, it appeared, and Harry had rarely seen this dance style performed in front of him before. It was not his preference of form, but Eggsy's body was twisting so adeptly in time with the music that Harry found himself not caring.

As the voice rose in pitch, Eggsy brought his leg up until it was almost parallel to his body, then immediately dropped into a series of tantalising motions with his torso and hips, his weight low. His body rocked in perfect timing with the beat of the peculiar song. The almost seductive roll of his pelvis was made impossibly more suggestive by the fact that Eggsy's eyes were fixed almost relentlessly on Harry's face. 

Even Merlin sat back in his chair with a heavy exhale as Eggsy leapt and bounded across the floor.

Harry just watched, his expression undoubtedly one of disbelief. He felt like he was in a trance. Truly, watching Eggsy dance in person was a more enjoyable experience than watching him dance on a screen.

Eggsy concluded the dance in his usual way ending it with a bow and wink, and he hardly stayed in the floor for another second before he returned to his position against the far wall, with the other candidates. He stared at his shoes once he was leant against the wall. 

"Your boy is good," Merlin muttered, "Very good."

Harry nodded, his gaze still on Eggsy. Eggsy looked up, and his eyes widened imperceptibly when he noticed Harry staring at him. Harry looked away, feeling slightly flushed. He wasn't quite sure why.

Chester stood again, and took his place in front of the table, "Thank you for your performances, candidates," he said loudly, "If you will all please exit to the waiting lounge, we will be out shortly to announce the newest member of Kingsman Studios."

The candidates filed out quietly, and Harry's eyes were once again drawn to the moving form of Eggsy. He  _ looked _ like a dancer, even as he lumbered across the floor towards the door. Just before exiting, Eggsy glanced over his shoulder and  _ winked _ at Harry.

Chester clapped his hands, distracting Harry from the sway of Eggsy's hips. Good god, he had never felt more like a voyeur in his life. 

Chester rubbed his hands together a few times as he turned to face the other judges, "Everyone is allowed a single vote, and if there is a tie we'll vote again, you know the rules. We'll start with you, Galahad."

Harry swallowed, "Eggsy Unwin."

Chester actually scoffed, and his eyes rolled comically, "Of  _ course _ you'd pick the street boy. Merlin?"

Merlin paused for the briefest of moments, then, "Eggsy Unwin."

Chester's jaw dropped open, and Harry sat upright in anticipation. One more vote for Eggsy, and he would be a student of Kingsman Studios. A dancer in Harry's troop, no less. Chester turned to Lancelot, and Harry knew from the expression on his face that he was going to vote for Eggsy.

Lancelot stared at the table, then said, quietly, "I vote for Eggsy Unwin."

Chester exhaled harshly through his nose, then turned to Percival, "The bloody chav has already won his place, but it only seems right that I ask for your vote, Percival."

"Er, Eggsy Unwin, also."

Chester made a strangled noise, and turned his attention back to Harry, "Right, Galahad, it's your bloody candidate, so you can go right ahead and tell the other dancers who have been  _ training their whole lives _ for this opportunity that they didn't succeed. Go and tell them that they were beaten by a fag from the street. Go on!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at Chester's oddly aggressive tone and slurs, but stood and walked over to the door anyway. 

He felt a little numb and distant from himself, almost like he was floating. It was no surprise to him that Eggsy had succeeded, but it  _ was _ a surprise that every other Kingsman instructor had voted for Eggsy. Even  _ Percival _ had voted for Eggsy, and he absolutely despised contemporary dance. 

Harry walked through to the lounge, and when he stepped through the doorway and took his place at the front of the room, every person in there fell silent. There were fifteen expectant faces staring up at him with a mixture of anxious and excited expressions.

"Thank you all very much for coming down here today. You have all clearly worked extremely hard on your routines, but unfortunately there can only be one new student of Kingsman," Harry inhaled and folded his hands behind his back. He pressed his lips together to hold back a smile, "I'm delighted to announce that the successful candidate is Eggsy Unwin."

There was a beat of silence, then an explosion of noise and movement. A few of the taller boys cried exclamatives and stormed out of the room, closely followed by a few teary-eyed girls. Harry recognised the younger brother of one of his own students, Charlie Hesketh. The younger boy had come to every single one of Charlie's performances, and Harry knew that he wanted nothing more than to perform next to his big brother. Harry felt almost cruel for putting his dreams on hold for another year at least, but his worries melted away when he looked over at Eggsy's euphoric expression. 

Harry just waited patiently, his hands folded neatly behind his back, until they had all filed out. All except Eggsy. 

Once the room was empty and silent, Harry beckoned to Eggsy. Eggsy stood from his seat and walked over to Harry, his eyes  _ shining _ .

"Did I really get in?"

Harry nodded, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling as he held out his hand. He felt like there were a million butterflies trapped in his stomach, yearning for release, "Welcome to Kingsman, Eggsy."

Eggsy grinned widely, and shook Harry's hand, "I can't fuckin' believe it."

"Neither can I."

"Are you gonna be my teacher or somethin'?" Eggsy's expression was getting impossibly more exuberant with every passing second, "You gonna teach me to dance well?"

"You hardly need lessons on decent dancing, Eggsy," Harry nodded again, "But, yes, I will be your teacher."

"Nice," Eggsy bobbed his head several times, then crossed his arms over his chest, "Thanks for doin' all this, Har."

Harry felt heat rise in his stomach at the sudden familiarity of Eggsy, at the intimacy of that nickname. Harry was used to being called Galahad or Hart, but not once had someone called him  _ Har _ . 

"You deserved it just as much as any other candidate in that room. Heaven knows you've done more to deserve the scholarship," Harry replied quickly, honestly. Eggsy snorted in response, his cheeks flushing pink, and punched Harry in the arm. Harry raised an eyebrow as he drew back from the movement, his balance almost lost after the sudden action. 

"Piss off, you posh wanker," Eggsy laughed off his embarrassment, which was evident on his bashful expression, "'Ey, can I meet the other teachers? I heard there are loads of you."

"Of course," Harry swept his hand to the side and allowed Eggsy to lead the way back into the main studio, "There are around twenty-five instructors at the different Kingsman Studios across the country, but you'll only ever be interacting with myself, Merlin, Arthur, Percival and Lancelot. Gawain might drop by from time to time, but he doesn't stay for long."

"All those names make you sound like knights or something," Eggsy commented as they made their way across to the main studio, "Is that the point?"

"Chester is our leader and our 'king', or so he would like to think, so we call him Arthur. We are his knights, in a manner of speaking, and we are  _ Kingsmen _ ."

"Ohh, that's where the name comes from. Thought it sounded a bit weird."

"You're catching on awfully quick, Eggsy," Harry pressed his hand against the base of Eggsy's back to guide him into the studio, but snapped his hand back almost immediately when Eggsy inhaled and his spine straightened.

Eggsy laughed quietly, then spoke in a breathy voice, "I'm a quick learner, bruv."

"Indeed."

The studio fell silent as they entered through the doorway, and Harry gently pushed Eggsy forward with a hand on the back of his elbow. Eggsy didn't flinch away, or make a sudden movement, so Harry kept his hand there as he introduced Eggsy.

"Gentlemen, this is Eggsy Un--"

"We know damn well who he is, Galahad," Chester snapped, his face red with hardly-restrained fury. Harry's hand tightened automatically around Eggsy's arm, and Eggsy sucked in a breath.

"No need to be so rude, Arthur," Harry said calmly, "Eggsy is the newest Kingsman. You ought to be a little kinder."

"Newest Kingsman," Chester spat, "I know what a Kingsman dancer looks like, and that little bastard is  _ not _ one. He is an imposter, not a gentleman or a dancer of any description, and I see no reason why I should fund his little fantasy."

Harry bristled at Chester's words, and from the tension in Eggsy's body, it was clear that the comments were getting to Eggsy.

"I see no reason why you should be leading Kingsman, you lazy, prejudiced snob, but I keep my opinions to myself. After all, that is the  _ gentlemanly _ thing to do," Harry replied in a cold voice. Chester recoiled as if Harry had slapped him, and he stormed out of the room, slamming the door rather melodramatically behind him. 

There was a moment of silence, then Merlin clapped his hands together four times, a smile breaking out on his face, "You finally put that stuffy prick in his place."

"Well done, old chap," Lancelot said quietly from the end of the table, "It was about time Arthur was taken down a peg or two."

The room fell silent again, then Eggsy turned his face up towards Harry, and said, quietly, "Guess you lot don't like Arthur, huh?"

"Not one bit," Harry replied, "He may have founded Kingsman, but he teaches dancers for all the wrong reasons. I was rather hoping that you, Eggsy, would bring some fresh ideas to the dancefloor. I had no idea that you would incite Chester's anger. I'm very sorry to have put you through that on your first day."

Eggsy snorted, "Mate, I've had worse treatment from me mum's bloke, trust me. Arthur don’t bother me too much."

Harry's heart sank at the mention of Eggsy's stepfather. He had taken the preliminary caution of checking up on Eggsy's background before offering him a chance to audition for the scholarship, just in case there were any sensitive issues that would prevent him from joining. After all, every single other Kingsman student aside from Eggsy had a strict upbringing, and they’d practically been  _ born _ into Kingsman, ready made and perfect for the position.

Harry Hart was  _ not _ classist, and he took care to ensure that he wasn’t, but Eggsy’s place of birth - a rundown and drug-addled neighbourhood on the outskirts of London - meant that he had been exposed to certain cultural influences that a boy raised with a stick up his arse, as Eggsy had so politely put it, would not have been exposed to.

There had been a police report filed in 2013 when Eggsy had been picked up by the police late one Saturday night. Harry had only skimmed the report, but the phrases  _ male prostitution _ ,  _ drug use  _ and  _ domestic violence  _ had been burned into Harry’s mind. Eggsy’s stepfather was responsible for all three of Eggsy’s charges, of which  _ Eggsy _ had been found guilty. 

Eggsy had spent several months doing daily community service, and his file was pushed to the back of a drawer, not to be found until Harry dug it up again.

Eggsy was not perfect for the Kingsman position. No, far from it.

But Harry saw no reason why a past of bad decisions and rotten luck should cling to Eggsy like a second skin. Every person deserved a chance to make something of themselves, and Harry knew, deep down, that Eggsy would become nothing short of a fine gentleman. And Harry would take Eggsy’s coming-of-age as the perfect opportunity to beat his stepfather into a well-deserved pulp.

"You alright, Har?"

Harry blinked as he was roused from his thoughts. He dropped his hand from where it had been tightly gripping Eggsy’s arm, "Yes, I’m fine. A little distracted."

"Nothing like a pretty boy to distract you from the more important things in life, eh,  _ Har _ ?" Merlin called loudly from his seat behind the table, his tone almost mocking. Harry felt a flush rise up from under his collar and he kept his narrowed eyes fixed on Merlin, even as Eggsy shifted next to him.

"Kindly keep your opinions to yourself, Merlin," Harry said quietly. He turned to look at Eggsy, who was staring at Harry with an odd expression on his face. Harry ignored it, and spoke, trying to keep his voice level, "If you like, I can take you to your apartment. It’s good to get a feel for the place before you move in."

"M-move in?"

Harry stifled a laugh, "Yes, Eggsy. As I told you yesterday, the Kingsman position comes with year-round accommodation," Eggsy blinked twice in response, almost gormlessly. Even that vaguely vacant expression couldn’t mar Eggsy’s soft features.

"Lead the way," Eggsy breathed.

Harry nodded and guided Eggsy towards the door with a gentle hand on his lower back. Eggsy did not flinch away this time, and he seemed almost comfortable.

Merlin  _ sniggered _ as they exited the studio. Harry ignored him.


	3. Early Days Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 2: Eggsy's POV, and his first two days in this strange new dancing world. Part 2 will also be in Eggsy's POV, but I wanted to break it up because it was a long one.
> 
> PS. Just to tease you, Part 2 is ALL about dancing the tango... ;)

_ Eggsy _

 

Eggsy didn't ever think he'd be a dancer in any studio, let alone a student in  _ Kingsman Studios _ .

For years, Kingsman had been so beyond Eggsy's reach that he hadn't even fucking  _ considered _ it an option or a goal. But here he was, moving his shit into a studio apartment that Kingsman had given him  _ for free _ , just because he was learning to dance with them. 

"Fuck me, dancing is weird," Eggsy muttered aloud as he hoisted the last of the cardboard boxes into his arms and stepped into the apartment.  _ His  _ apartment. 

After his interview and all the bullshit with Arthur that had followed, the outrageously attractive and charming Harry Hart had shown Eggsy around the apartment building where all the other Kingsman students lived. Eggsy remembered that short tour like it had happened five seconds ago, not the previous day.

_ Eggsy’s mouth fell open when they walked through the double glass doors into the ‘Galahad’ section of the Kingsman Studios apartment building. Eggsy had known that he’d be living with the other kids who danced with Kingsman, but he had no clue that they were split up depending on which teacher taught them. _

_ Harry laughed at Eggsy’s expression, and said, "This is only the entrance, Eggsy. There’s an awful lot more in this building to interest you." _

_ Harry walked Eggsy through to a lounge area, filled with sofas and TVs and games consoles and a giant wall of books. There were a few kids lingering in the lounge, clearly waiting for Harry to bring home the latest Galahad recruit. Eggsy walked in just behind Harry, and a few of the lads sniggered. _

_ "So, Galahad, this is Kingsman’s excuse for a recruit now, is it?" one of the shorter boys said from his seat on one of the sofas. _

_ Eggsy nearly pounced on him. Harry practically grunted and wrapped his hand around Eggsy’s arm, stopping him from leaping on the cocky bastard in the corner. _

_ "Keep your opinions to yourself, Digby," Harry snapped, his tone threateningly low, "You should be setting an example, not traumatising the poor boy." _

_ "Don’t think he gives a shit, Galahad," another of the boys said, "He’s just a pleb. He doesn’t belong here." _

_ Eggsy had honestly thought that the day had been going well, but when he looked down at his trainers, then at the formal black shoes of all the other kids in the room, he thought that maybe the twat, whoever he was, was right.  _

_ He was just a pleb, and he really didn’t fit in with all the posh kids.  _

_ "Maybe he’s right," Eggsy muttered, "I should just go." _

_ "Nonsense," Harry replied quietly, then turned back to the crowd of kids, "Rufus, Digby, run along, back to your apartments. Bring your positive attitudes to class tomorrow, please." _

_ Eggsy stared darkly after the boys as they sighed and filed out, followed by a few other students. Only a few kids stayed behind; two girls and a boy, one blonde-haired and two brown-haired, all ridiculously fucking attractive. _

_ The blonde, a slender girl, stepped forward, and Eggsy immediately noticed that she was wearing a suit. It was more casual than Harry's fancy-arse tailored one, but it was a suit all the same. Eggsy looked around, and realised that the remaining students were in suits, and recalled that Digby and Rufus and the others who had left had been in suits, too. He made a mental note to ask Harry about it later. Maybe they were all in a club or something.  _

_ "Ignore those boys," the blonde girl said as she moved forward and held out her hand. Eggsy shook it as she continued to talk, her voice playful, "I'm Roxanne, but everyone calls me Roxy." _

_ The boy stepped forward and shook Eggsy's hand, the muscles in his arm clearly tensing under the suit sleeve. Eggsy practically drooled as he spoke in a smooth voice, "I'm Charlie. Rufus and Digby are my cousins. They are absolute bullies to everyone, so just ignore them." _

_ "That's what I told him," Roxy smiled at Charlie, then at Eggsy. _

_ The final student in the room stood from her seat on the sofa, and Eggsy held his hand out. She shook it quickly, her eyes staring away from Eggsy's face like she was scared of him, then she ran out of the room with a half-hearted cry. Eggsy stared after her, "Who was that?" _

_ Harry answered, "Amelia. She's leaving this evening, so forgive her for being a tad emotional." _

_ "Why's she leavin'?" _

_ "You're her replacement," Harry replied, matter-of-fact. Eggsy felt Harry's hand rest on his lower back again, and he tried his very fucking best not to push back into the touch, "She has no reason to stay now that we've found a new Galahad dancer." _

_ "Didja kick her out?" Eggsy grinned up at Harry, who shook his head, his tongue darting out to wet his fuckable lips. Eggsy yanked his head out of the gutter before his body had time to catch up. _

_ "Of course not. She's moving to a studio near Manchester which works with contemporary dancers. She's a brilliant dancer, but Kingsman focuses more on traditional dance forms, and she struggles with those," Harry explained, "Now, enough chit chat, you have an apartment to see." _

_ Harry gestured towards a door opposite Eggsy. Eggsy smiled at Roxy and Charlie, his eyes lingering on the curve of Roxy's hips under her tight suit. All the people he'd met since meeting Harry had been so fucking beautiful that he was distracted by all of them. Maybe the posh folk just had good genes.  _

_ The corridor behind the door was quiet and bright. Eggsy walked along it slowly, looking at all the names on the doors. Along the left wall in a row there were three names: Charlie Hesketh, Roxanne Morton, Eggsy Unwin. _

_ "You've put my name up already?" Eggsy asked as he leant against the wall beside the door to what he assumed was his apartment, "You had a lot of faith in me, eh?" _

_ "I had no doubt that you would be the new candidate, yes," Harry said, sounding so honest and so bloody proud that Eggsy found himself experiencing the punch-hug-snog dilemma for the second time in two days, "So, you like Roxy?" _

_ Eggsy felt a little blindsided by the sudden question. What the fuck? _

_ "What?" _

_ "Pardon, Eggsy," Harry corrected, "I noticed you admiring Roxy back in the lounge. I do hate to squash your hopes, but she's otherwise engaged." _

_ "Engaged?" _

_ "Well, in a relationship, at least." _

_ "Who with?" _

_ Harry smiled at his shoes, cute as fuck, and Eggsy definitely wanted to kiss him, "Sorry. That information is classified, Eggsy." _

_ Eggsy narrowed his eyes at Harry, "She's not bangin' you, is she?" _

_ Harry snorted, "Heavens no. Roxy isn’t... no, nevermind." _

_ Eggsy raised an eyebrow and stepped away from the wall, forward into Harry's personal space, instantly curious as to what he was hiding. Knowing Harry, all dressed up in his fancy suit, he probably had plenty of secrets. _

_ "Go on," Eggsy urged. Eggsy decided on the spot that Harry was intriguing and charming and ten kinds of hot, and that he wanted him. Eggsy reached up and pulled gently at the knot of Harry's tie.  _

_ Harry sucked in a breath as Eggsy tugged at his tie, his jaw clenched tightly, and when Harry shifted his weight, Eggsy grinned. It was a unique joy, being able to turn someone on just by being near them. Eggsy didn't really know that Harry was getting off on Eggsy absently playing his tie, but from the expression on his face he was definitely getting something from it. _

_ If Harry could pull at loose threads and touch Eggsy all over like he was a plaything, then Eggsy could do the same. It was going to be fucking revenge, if nothing else.  _

_ "Tell me," Eggsy said, deliberately dragging out the words just to hear Harry's strained noise of frustration. _

_ "She's a woman, and I don't like women like that, so no, I am not sleeping with her," Harry breathed, "And I'm going to have to insist you stop toying with my tie before I do something I'll regret." _

_ Eggsy wet his bottom lip slowly, feeling a great sense of satisfaction when Harry's eyes followed the path of his tongue. _

_ "Eggsy," Harry warned in a heavy voice, "Stop this." _

_ Eggsy shifted his weight and stood on his tiptoes, leaning closer to Harry until his mouth was an inch from Harry's ear, until he could feel Harry's hair tickling his cheek. Harry's breathing quickened and Eggsy could fucking hear the hitch in his breath, and it was so hot Eggsy wanted to scream. _

_ "Make me," Eggsy whispered, his voice as soft as he could get it, and holy shit, he had never felt more in control.  _

_ Harry let out a sound that was a mix between a whine and a groan, and Eggsy drew back just enough for him to see Harry's face. Harry's hand was on Eggsy's hip, but it was a different type of touch than the earlier guiding presses had been. His other hand was laid over Eggsy's hand that was still wrapped around his tie. _

_ Their faces were closer than they had been in the studio the day before, the very air between them hot and charged, and Eggsy could feel Harry's lips half a centimetre from his own, tantalisingly close and warm. _

_ Harry's eyes were brown, Eggsy realised, and they were such a vibrant brown that they appeared almost orange in colour. When Eggsy moved closer, his pupils began to blend with his irises, the brown almost becoming black as the light shadowed them. Eggsy's head was light with the sheer intensity of Harry's gaze, and when Harry's hand on his hip lightly pulled him until their bodies were pressed just slightly together, Eggsy thought he would pass out from the tension of it all.  _

_ From the expression on Harry's face, Eggsy's little revenge tactic had worked hook, line and sinker, and the poor sucker was hardly breathing. _

_ "You gonna make me, Har?" Eggsy teased, feeling the gap between their mouths grow smaller with every word, with every gentle tug of his hand around Harry's tie, "Gonna make me stop?" _

_ Harry's words caught in his throat, his lips moving wordlessly around nothing, and when the door at the end of the corridor opened with a bang, Eggsy knew that it was all over. _

"Eggsy?"

Eggsy nearly shit himself at the sudden voice, his hands losing the grip on the box. He swore as it tumbled from his fingers, but another pair of hands caught it before it fell.

Harry.

"Thanks, Har," Eggsy took the box back from Harry, and placed it in its rightful place beside the sink in the corner of the room, "Y'saved my knives and forks, there."

"It's quicker to say cutlery," Harry replied as he walked around the apartment, his eyes lingering on Eggsy's muddy trainers next to the door. Eggsy wanted to judge Harry for his judging, but he was wearing a  _ full length leotard _ with the gold Kingsman Studios logo on the front of it, and he wanted to take the piss out of him for that.

"Nice leotard, Misty Copeland," Eggsy jeered. Harry glanced up at him, then down at his black leotard, then back up at Eggsy with an unamused expression on his face.

"You'll be wearing one of these shortly, Eggsy."

Eggsy frowned, "I don't wear leotards to dance in. I wear _normal_ clothes."

"We have a dress code at Kingsman Studios, Eggsy," Harry explained. He pulled at the shoulder strap of his leotard, "This is a tailor-made spandex leotard, and you'll be expected to wear it to every lesson. Ah, that reminds me, the first lesson starts in fifteen minutes. I came to collect you. You're welcome to wear your..." Harry gestured at Eggsy's sweatpants and t-shirt, "Normal clothes, just this once. I’ll take you to get fitted for a leotard and dance shoes one day this week."

Eggsy nodded, "Alright, get out and I'll get dressed."

Harry laughed at that, his bare shoulders shaking with the sound, "The studio is several streets away. You might as well get changed in the changing room there."

Eggsy sighed, "Fine."

He walked over to where his box of clothes was, and pulled his tank and sweats out of it. He'd never needed a bag of any description to carry his dance clothes, so he shoved them into a plastic carrier bag and hooked his finger through the loops. 

"Ready?"

"Yep."

Harry stepped out into the hallway before Eggsy, and stood there patiently as Eggsy turned off the lights and pulled on his trainers. Together, they headed down the corridor and out into the lounge. Roxy was in the lounge, typing on her phone, leant against a wall beside a duffel bag printed with the same logo that was on Harry's leotard.

The leotard that, Eggsy realised, Harry was about to wear on the street.

"You gonna wear that leotard in public, Har?" Eggsy asked. Roxy looked up at his voice, and walked over to them.

"Galahad always wears his leotard on the streets," Roxy answered, "He stopped caring about five years ago, if memory serves."

"Well, she's not wrong," Harry confirmed as he opened the double doors of the building for Eggsy and Roxy, "There aren't too many homes around here, and most of the business owners are used to seeing me in a leotard, anyway. So, I don't mind."

_I don't mind_ _either_ , Eggsy thought as he stepped out into the hot sun. Harry quickly jumped in front of Roxy and Eggsy, leading the way silently. Roxy fell into step next to Eggsy, almost naturally, like they had been friends for years.

"So, Eggsy, I hear you dance ballet?"

Eggsy nodded, trying his very best to focus on Roxy's voice instead of Harry's arse. Since the incident in the hallway, Eggsy found his mind wandering whenever he wasn't completely occupied, and it always wandered towards Harry. Harry in his suit, pristine and proper. Harry in his suit, a bedraggled mess just begging to be stripped and fucked. Harry in his birthday suit, scratched and bruised and hard and  _ aching _ for it--

"You seem a little distracted."

Eggsy shook his head, "No, no, I'm not."

"Yes, yes, you are," Roxy mocked. Eggsy rolled his eyes and returned his gaze back to Harry, who was whistling as he walked a few paces ahead of them. Roxy made a noise of disbelief and laughed, "You're distracted because of  _ Galahad _ ?"

Eggsy tripped over his own feet at Roxy's words, and blushed instantly, "Keep your fucking voice down!"

Roxy laughed again, high as a bell, then spoke in an overly-dramatic stage whisper, "I can't believe it. The infamous Eggsy Unwin is smitten with our very own Harry Hart."

Eggsy swore aloud, and inwardly cursed himself for being so fucking obvious about it. He wasn't smitten, for fuck's sake, but he was definitely interested in Harry. Even if it was just the desire to shag a man in a tailored suit, Eggsy wanted Harry in every way he could have him. Naked or not. 

"I'm not smitten, Rox," Eggsy whined, "Now drop it."

"Never," Roxy grinned widely and span on the spot, her hair swirling around her shoulders as she turned en pointe. They rounded the corner onto Savile Row, and Kingsman Studios loomed, glossy and enticing. 

It had taken Eggsy a long time to find the studio the previous day, as instructions beyond 'Savile Row' weren't given to him, and the map app on his phone was absolutely no help. It had been a miracle when he'd stumbled across the studio. He was entirely taken in by the fancy-arse glass front, and he could  _ see _ the dancers inside.

Even as he walked up to it for the second time, Eggsy was impressed.

And he was a student of Kingsman, now. Holy fuck. 

Harry marched straight up the steps like he owned the place - he probably did, Eggsy realised as he followed Roxy inside, considering how badly Harry had treated Arthur, their apparent leader - and led his students into a studio Eggsy hadn't visited before.

The floor was slick, varnished wood - a step up from Eggsy's usual fucked up linoleum dance floor - and the walls were sheer mirrors, aside from where doors leading to different rooms split them up. There was a barre across the mirrors on one of the walls. Against the opposite wall, there were several stacked boxes of varying heights and sizes. 

It was fucking fancy, if nothing else. 

On the boxes there were several young men and women. Eggsy recognised the pricks Digby and Rufus from the previous day, and the guy he'd liked, Charlie.

There were a few other students amongst the ones Eggsy knew, but, weirdly enough, there was another instructor leant against the wall at the other end of the studio. Eggsy recognised him from his interview.

Eggsy nudged Roxy in the side, "'Ey, Rox, who's that bloke down there? I know 'im from my interview."

Roxy followed Eggsy's gaze, and her expression brightened, "That's Merlin."

"Merlin?"

"Yes," Roxy's eyes were pinned on the bald guy, Merlin, and there was an almost fond smile curving her lips, "He practically runs Kingsman. Harry's right hand man, you could say."

Eggsy hummed, then Roxy mumbled something about rent, and skipped over to Merlin. He smiled at her as she approached, and together they slid away into the door behind Merlin, both of them grinning madly. Eggsy raised an eyebrow. Was this who Roxy was 'otherwise engaged' to?  _ Merlin _ ? He wondered vaguely why Harry hadn't told him, but there was a presence at his side, and Harry answered his silent question.

"It's supposed to be a secret, I'm afraid, Eggsy."

Eggsy snorted, "They're not exactly subtle, are they?"

Harry let out a quiet laugh and shook his head, "No, they're not," Harry leant in closer to Eggsy, his breath hot on Eggsy's ear, and Eggsy knew exactly how he had made Harry feel the previous day when he whispered, "But let's keep it our secret, how about that?" into Eggsy's ear.

Eggsy nodded dumbly, turning his head in such a tight circle that he could feel Harry's nose brush against his. He lowered his voice and said, quietly, "My lips're sealed."

Harry exhaled against Eggsy's lips, and then Eggsy realised that the room was silent, the students all watching their interaction with confused expressions on their faces. They sprang apart, and Eggsy noticed a pink flush on Harry's cheekbones that matched the heat in his own cheeks. At least Eggsy wasn't the only one getting a kick out of all the flirting.

"Alright, everyone go and get changed. We're going through our paces for the American smooth tango today, so wear your good shoes, please," Harry commanded, his voice echoing through the studio. 

Eggsy's blood ran cold. He leant in towards Harry and whispered, "Har, I can't do the tango."

Harry had the decency to mask his surprise with a cough. Eggsy liked him a bit more, just for that, even as he spoke in a slightly patronising voice, "What do you mean you can't dance tango? It's one of the most basic ballroom routines. How on earth haven't you picked it up?"

Eggsy stared at his feet, "I never had a partner to dance with."

And it wasn't a lie. Eggsy had hidden his dancing from his family and friends as best he could, so he'd never had the balls to ask someone to dance with him. He'd looked at the steps for tango once or twice, but he'd never had the means to practice. 

And he'd never even heard about  _ American smooth _ tango. What the fuck did that mean? Was it different to the normal tango? What  _ was _ the normal tango?

"I'll teach you," Harry said quietly.

Eggsy looked up from his shoes, "Well, duh. You're my teacher."

"No, no, that's not what I mean," Harry clarified, "All my students can dance tango sufficiently enough to keep themselves practicing for a lesson. I will personally teach you to dance."

Eggsy waved his hand, "Nah, I don't wanna be a pain. I'll just ask Rox to--"

"Eggsy."

"Mm?"

"I'm going to teach you to dance," Harry clapped Eggsy on the back of the shoulder in an overly manly gesture, "And that's final. Go and get changed with the others."

Eggsy rolled his eyes and obeyed, heading over to the doorway that the other kids had vanished through. He could feel Harry's gaze on his back, constant and steady, and if he walked a little slower than usual, letting his hips sway from side to side, he pretended he wasn't doing it. 

When he got into the changing room, he found that the girls were changing with the boys, and for a moment Eggsy felt that he'd entered a curvy, muscular heaven. 

"Eggsy!" Roxy chirped from the bench beside the door. 

She was tugging the legs of a bunched black leotard up over her ankles, the sparse fat of her stomach rolled in a way that was still undeniably attractive, at least in Eggsy's opinion. Dancers had the most beautiful bodies that he'd ever seen - Eggsy himself had unintentionally bulked out after practicing flips for a whole summer, and he knew he looked hot - and Eggsy loved looking at them.

He wondered if Harry's body was toned like Roxy's or muscled like Eggsy's, or if it had become padded with age. The tight black leotard didn't give much away, which was a fucking surprise. The depth of the colour was so profound that Harry just looked like a smooth patch of darkness.

Sneaky bastard. Eggsy wanted him naked and tied up.

Well, maybe not tied up, entirely. But definitely naked.

"Eggsy?"

Eggsy blinked his way out of the vivid image of Harry, naked and handcuffed to the barre, and realised that the bald guy, Merlin, was talking to him. He was sat next to Roxy. There was  _ definitely _ something between them.

"Hm?"

"Are you alright?"

Eggsy nodded and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, trying desperately to dampen down his red-hot blush, "Yeah, just a bit nervous, y'know?"

Merlin raised his eyebrow, and Eggsy could tell from the glint in his eyes that he fucking knew something. Then he spoke, cool as anything, "That's perfectly normal. Has  _ Har _ given you a pair of dance shoes, yet?"

Eggsy exhaled at the nickname he'd given Harry. This man Merlin was  _ clever _ . 

"Nah. He's takin' me to get fitted for one of these fancy leotards and some shoes someday."

Merlin hummed, "I'll make sure he takes you today. You can't be dancing in those trainers, not here."

Eggsy shrugged and sat down on the bench running down the centre of the changing room. Digby actually moved his stuff further down the bench away from Eggsy. What a prick. Eggsy kicked off his shoes a little more aggressively than he intended, then set about stripping down to his boxers.

He stood up when he was just in his underwear, and rummaged through the plastic bag looking for his vest. He had just grabbed the damn thing when there was a cold hand on his lower stomach, far too close to places he'd rather there wasn't a hand, and another on his shoulder, pulling him upright.

Eggsy swore and pulled away from the offender,  _ Merlin _ , "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Don't be such a prude, Eggsy," Merlin sighed, "Come here and stand up straight."

"It's alright, Eggsy," Roxy butted in, "Merlin teaches ballet. He's just looking at your form."

"He can see that when I get up and dance. He don't need to  _ molest _ me," Eggsy snarled. He vaguely registered that most of the kids had left the room, sniggering, but he didn't care enough to get embarrassed. 

Why the fuck did Merlin have to feel him up like that? He hadn't been touched by someone when he didn't want them to since he was renting himself out all those months ago, and he didn't want it to happen again. What the  _ fuck? _

"I wasn't molesting you, Eggsy," Merlin held up his hands, "I'm checking your posture. It's standard procedure here, for chrissake." 

"You weirdos need to change your standard procedure. And my posture is fine," Eggsy muttered as he turned his back on Merlin. He got dressed as quickly as he could, anxious to return to the main hall where no one would feel him up without permission.


	4. Early Days Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 2: Eggsy's POV (still)
> 
> Just a short one this time. Tango, whoooohoo! Next chapter might not be for a while as I'm not happy with it, so I'm rewriting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!

_ Eggsy _

 

Eggsy darted into the dance studio followed closely by Roxy and Merlin, and Harry glanced up in surprise at their sudden entrance. Harry and Merlin had what looked like a silent conversation in a series of glances and blinks, then Harry ordered the kids to fall in.

Fall in. What was this, army camp?

Eggsy obeyed, though, standing in line with the other kids like a good little soldier. Roxy stood next to him, her body in the perfect at-ease position, and Eggsy had never felt more out of place.

Harry cleared his throat and spoke, "We're resuming practice of the American smooth tango for the Royal Academy of Dance promotion fair. Pair up and get started."

The kids around Eggsy split off into pairs, and Roxy had barely reached for Eggsy's hand before Harry was beside him, his hand hot and firm on Eggsy's shoulder. Eggsy tried not to flinch away. It was only  _ Harry _ .

Roxy stared at them, "Galahad?"

"I'll be teaching Eggsy today, Roxy. You can practice with Merlin, if he's willing. He doesn’t have a class to teach today," Harry answered Roxy's unspoken question, and gestured for her to head over to Merlin. She did, her eyes flicking between Harry and Eggsy suspiciously.

Music suddenly burst from unseen speakers around the room, and Eggsy recognised the song as  _ I Heard It Through The Grapevine _ . He had no idea that it was possible to tango to a song like that.

"I could’ve danced with Rox," Eggsy muttered, "She’s pretty good."

"I’m well aware," Harry murmured. He took a few steps away from Eggsy, moving backwards into the middle of the dancefloor, "Come here."

Eggsy traced his steps, stopping a few feet in front of him. Harry laughed through his nose, and gestured Eggsy closer with his hands.

Eggsy looked around, and realised that all the other pairs were dancing, all of them doing entirely different moves and different actions with their partners - a few of them were talking to each other even as they were dipped and spun around, natural as anything - but all perfectly in time with one another. It looked fucking beautiful.

He stepped close to Harry, and Eggsy brought his gaze up to his face. Harry actually smiled at him.

"Your hips need to be closer to mine," Harry corrected Eggsy’s position, pulling their pelvises flush together, and Eggsy could feel  _ every-fucking-thing  _ through the thin material of Harry’s leotard.

Eggsy waggled his eyebrows at Harry, "Feels like you’re just tryin’ to get me close to ya."

Harry just  _ smiled _ . 

"American smooth is a little different to regular tango," Harry explained as he continued to fix Eggsy’s stance, kicking his legs farther apart, nudging Eggsy’s feet in line with his own, "The partners are connected at the hips and thighs, rather than at the chest. This makes the dance a little less… well, intimate, but this style allows for turns and other movements."

Harry laced the fingers of his left hand through Eggsy’s right, and pulled their joined hands out to the side, to shoulder height. Then Harry took Eggsy’s free hand in his own, and laid it on his own bare shoulder. Eggsy held back a shiver when Harry’s hand moved to just below his arm, his fingers settling perfectly in the gaps between his ribs.

"Definitely tryin’ to get close to me," Eggsy laughed, squeezing Harry’s shoulder beneath his hand.

Harry rolled his eyes in response, "I can’t believe you’d accuse me of such brazen behaviour."

"’S’not the first time you’ve been  _ brazen. _ " 

The song that had been playing drew to a close, and a slower song that Eggsy didn't recognise came onto the speakers. The dancers around them slowed down appropriately, and Eggsy was so fucking impressed by how smooth the transition was that he missed what Harry was saying.

"Wha'?"

"I said, we'll start with this song," Harry repeated, slowly, "It's a little easier on the feet. Now, bend your knees slightly, and keep them bent."

"Alright."

Eggsy obeyed Harry's commands, then Harry looked down at their feet, and Eggsy mimicked him.

"When I move my left foot forward, I will roll my weight from my heel to my toe, just like a normal pace when walking. Your right foot will move backward, in reverse."

Eggsy nodded, "Toe to heel."

"That's right," Harry looked almost pleased, "Right, we'll do two slow steps, your right then your left. Alright?"

Eggsy stared at Harry's feet as they moved, bringing his opposite foot back in time with Harry's. He rolled his weight from toe to heel as best he could, but the strange shift made him feel like he would fall over onto his arse. He was glad that Harry was holding onto him, but the movement still felt stiff and unfamiliar, especially considering his arms were at odd angles and his knees were bent uncomfortably.

"Well done."

Eggsy looked up in surprise, "I did it right?"

"It's not the hardest of steps, Eggsy," Harry teased, "Right, stand back in the neutral position."

Eggsy did, flexing his fingers in Harry's grip to loosen them up, "What's next?" he asked, looking back at his feet.

"The pattern of the basic tango step is slow, slow, quick quick, slow," Harry answered, quickening his voice in time with the words. _Fucking_ _nerd_ , Eggsy thought absently, "We're going to repeat those two slow steps again, then you're going to bring your right foot backwards again, quickly. I'll bring my left forward, and then you will move your left foot to the left side. Alright?"

Eggsy nodded, "Alright."

It felt strange to have instructions to follow, but he tried anyway, listening to Harry quietly whisper  _ slow, slow, quick quick _ , as they moved. He stumbled over his own feet when he tried to move his left foot to the side, and flushed with embarrassment as Harry's grip around his rib tightened.

"Almost," Harry said quietly.

"What did I do wrong?"

"You moved your foot diagonally."

"Ain't I supposed to?"

Harry pressed his lips together, holding back either an insult or a laugh, then said, "No, move your left foot backwards and inwards towards your right, then move it horizontally out to the left. It's two individual moves, both quick. Alright?"

Harry said 'alright?' a lot, Eggsy noted. Very teacherly. He nodded, and off they went again.

Eggsy stared at his feet again, concentrating on the roll of his weight and the slide of his left foot from the middle out to the left. He ended up feeling a bit like he was doing the splits, but when he looked up at Harry and saw him smiling, he knew he'd done it right.

"Well done, Eggsy."

Eggsy winked at Harry, absolutely relishing in the way Harry's expression crumbled.

Harry cleared his throat and turned his gaze down to their feet again. Eggsy let his eyes linger on Harry's pink features for a second longer, then looked at their feet, too.

"The final step is a slow one. After the first four steps you will slide your right foot inwards towards your left. Your knees will be touching at the end of this movement, but your feet will be apart. Alright?"

"You keep sayin' that," Eggsy commented.

"Saying what?"

"'Alright'."

Harry chuckled, "That's an old teacher's habit, I'm afraid. I'll try to stop."

"No, don't," Eggsy smiled at his shoes, "It's fine, I was just sayin'."

"Well, stop saying and start dancing," Harry commanded, "One, two-"

Eggsy stared at Harry's feet this time, focusing on the slide, matching his own motion to his perfectly. Harry was muttering again, quietly,  _ slow, slow, quick quick _ , then, finally,  _ slow _ . Eggsy slid his left foot to the side and pulled his right inwards, slowly, until his bent knees met.

The tension in Harry's arms disappeared as he cried, almost too excitedly, "Well done, Eggsy!"

Eggsy grinned up at Harry, genuine joy fluttering in his chest, and the smile on Harry's lips only increased his sappy glee.

"It only gets harder from here on out, I'm afraid," Harry said quietly, his solemn words not matching the expression on his face, "The basic tango is a box movement, so our roles will reverse. Your left foot moves forward first, then-"

"I can do it," Eggsy interrupted, "Let's just try it, Har."

Harry didn't look convinced, but his grip on Eggsy returned, and together they settled into the neutral stance.

"One, two-"

And, just like that, they danced. It was fucking creepy how quickly Eggsy fell in step with Harry, considering how clumsy he'd been not five minutes earlier. Now his feet were moving semi-independently, he could focus on other things, like the heat of Harry's leg brushing intimately against Eggsy's thighs on the first step, or the gently leading pressure of Harry's hand on Eggsy's ribs. 

After eight sets of steps, Harry paused. Eggsy looked up at him, surprised.

"Why'd you stop?"

"You can dance the basic step quite efficiently now, Eggsy," Harry answered, "Now we must add some flair."

"Flair?"

"Turns, spins, changed directions, things like that. We'll keep it simple for this lesson."

Eggsy nodded, "'Kay. Spin me, baby!"

Harry looked extremely amused for a split second, "Baby?"

"Sorry, got caught up in the moment," Eggsy replied, mostly honestly, "C'mon, let's dance."

And they did. 

For the next forty-five minutes, Harry taught Eggsy the finer points of the American smooth tango. The underarm spins were particularly hard for Eggsy to master -  _ not _ because he wasn't an excellent spinner, because he definitely was, but because Harry wanted to take it slow and Eggsy just couldn't hold back on his turns. Once or twice, Harry flung Eggsy out by their joined hands, almost causing him to trip up from the unexpected movement. 

Harry told Eggsy halfway through that he needed to keep his head up, his eyes fixed on Harry's, if he was going to dance tango properly. Eggsy tried - he really fucking did - but the intensity of Harry's gaze was so overwhelming that he found himself looking down at his feet, over and over again.

Towards the end of the lesson, Harry taught Eggsy to tango side-by-side, and the two of them paraded up and down the studio together, their feet moving in tandem as they wove between the other dancers. Eggsy was still clumsy, occasionally missing a step or forgetting to keep his feet apart on the fifth count, but Harry kept him moving, either by kicking his feet back into place or by pushing him in the right direction with the weight of his body. 

If he wasn't tripping up and ruining the mood every other set, Eggsy was sure that he would've jumped Harry before it was all over. He was very glad that there were students all around them, thankfully stopping Eggsy from giving in to his desire to grind on Harry. 

In spite of the lack of mood, Eggsy was still feeling a little flustered by the end of it, his body hot with exertion, his skin tingling with sweat and the natural high that came from being pressed against another person for an hour.

If Eggsy's lingering teenage libido stuck its foot in the door and he got a little hard during it all, Harry never mentioned it.

And if  _ Harry's _ apparent libido stuck its foot in the door and Eggsy could feel Harry's erection pressed against his own through his sinfully tight leotard, Eggsy never mentioned it.


	5. Espion Globale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternating PoV. Merlin, bless him, thinks it's a brilliant idea to enter Roxy and Eggsy into a dance competition. But not just any old competition...

_ Harry _

  
  
Eggsy had blossomed into a glorious ballroom dancer. 

Since his first day - almost two weeks ago - he had learned the tango, the foxtrot, and had even begun to tackle the Viennese waltz. Harry had experienced the first-hand pleasure of watching a nervous, slightly clumsy street dancer develop into a skilled ballroom dancer in a matter of days.

He suspected that Roxy had been working with Eggsy in the evenings when they weren't in lessons together, as Eggsy seemed to improve tenfold overnight.

Of course, Eggsy's natural talent for dance was evident in the way his body moved, even through missed steps and clumsy motions. When Harry had first taken him to the floor, Eggsy had hardly been able to dance a basic tango box, but by the end of the week he was almost as graceful as the other students, who had been dancing for an awfully long time.

Harry was impressed, if nothing else. And a little concupiscent, but that was irrelevant. Eggsy was far too young for Harry to even be  _ thinking _ about him in that manner.

"He's quite talented."

Harry nodded absently in agreement with Merlin's comment, too lost in his thoughts to respond verbally. The two of them were sat on a bench in the corner of the main studio, watching the students dance. Eggsy was working with Roxy - a fine pair, not just in physical appearance, but in dance compatibility - and Harry was slightly jealous of the way Roxy was pressed against Eggsy, now dressed in the standard Kingsman leotard.

Harry had - after Merlin's insistence - taken Eggsy to be fitted for a leotard shortly after Eggsy's first lesson ended. They had also picked up some various shoes for Eggsy, including a pair of Oxfords for ballroom, and a  _ decent _ pair of ballet shoes. It had taken quite literally all of Harry's willpower for him not to stare at Eggsy as he undressed and was measured. 

He practically salivated at the visual image of Eggsy, shirtless. Good god, he had a problem.

"Galahad?"

Harry snapped out of his daydream, "For heaven's sake, Merlin, call me Harry. Chester isn't here right now, so you needn't use that godawful nickname."

"I know you'd much rather prefer the name  _ Arthur _ , Harry, but it doesn't look like Chester is going to bite it anytime soon," Merlin sighed, "You might as well get used to the name Galahad."

"I'm plenty used to it," Harry replied, crossing his legs, "I just dislike it, especially when the students use it."

Merlin cleared his throat at that, his expression changing into an odd one. Harry stared at him.

"What's that face for?"

"Eggsy doesn't seem to like the name, either," Merlin replied, slightly cockily, "He seems rather fond of the nickname  _ Har _ ."

Harry huffed, "Your point?"

"He's the first student of yours to give you a nickname, as far as I'm aware. And he's the only student you've ever singled out this much."

"I do  _ not _ single him out."

Merlin laughed, so loudly that Eggsy and Roxy looked up from their dance. Harry met Eggsy's eyes across the floor, and his expression softened so greatly that Harry had to look away from the sweetness in his gaze.

"You absolutely do single him out, the poor boy," Merlin said around lingering chuckles, "You hold quite the torch for him."

"I do not."

"You can keep denying it, Harry," Merlin continued, "But even I can see that you're infatuated with your student. It's quite unprofessional."

"You're hardly one to talk," Harry spat.

"Technically, Roxy isn't my student."

"Don't be so pedantic. It ages you greatly."

They continued to bicker back and forth for a few minutes, then fell silent. Harry felt a great need to defend Eggsy, to persist the point that Harry wasn't interested in him. If he was being entirely truthful with himself, Harry wanted nothing more than to strip Eggsy of his clothing and take him in the middle of the studio.

He really needed to stop thinking about Eggsy in such a sexual context.

"Look at them," Merlin said quietly, breaking Harry out of his brief reverie, "Our two star students."

Harry looked up at Eggsy and Roxy, who were now performing a strange jumbled version of ballet, but with duet elements. Eggsy was almost constantly smiling at Roxy, the two of them caught in a conversation that Harry could not hear. He was dipping her confidently - a move Harry had taught Eggsy not two days prior with little difficulty and far too much arousal - but their conversation continued even as he did so.

Eggsy's talent for ballet was not lost on Harry, and even though he was a ballroom teacher he could appreciate a fine ballet dancer. Roxy was phenomenal at ballet, having been taught personally by Merlin - ballet was not the only thing Merlin had taught Roxy, mind you - but Eggsy practically rivalled her.

They moved together like they had been born to it, their bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces, cliché aside, and they practically flowed from one motion to another, one silently conveying to the other the next move. 

"We should enter the two of them in a competition," Merlin hummed, his eyes following the path of the young dancers.

"So soon? Eggsy has hardly begun to learn."

Merlin scoffed, "He can dance, Harry. You don't need to judge him with a fine tooth comb all the time."

"Force of habit," Harry admitted quietly, "Which competition would they dance in? The  _ Dame Du Danse _ ?  _ Fremont _ ?  _ Berlin Ballet _ ?"

"Perhaps  _ Espion Globale _ ," Merlin suggested, entirely out of the blue.

Harry choked on air, " _ Espion Globale _ ?"

It was true that Kingsman had been searching for a duo of dancers to represent them in EG, but Harry hadn't even considered Eggsy and Roxy. They were both incredibly young, and he had no doubt that EG would be filled with adult dancers; dancers who had many more years of experience under their belts than Eggsy and Roxy.

"Why not?" Merlin shrugged, as if gambling Kingsman's reputation in a global dance competition was an everyday occurrence.

"You do realise that they would be competing against Valentine, don't you?"

Merlin nodded, "I think they can take him and his prissy companion. If we enter them now, they'll have a whole week to learn a routine for the qualifiers. We are getting dangerously close to the qualifiers, Harry, and we can't afford to waste more time selecting dancers."

Harry focused on the position of Eggsy's feet for a moment. He was perfectly bracketing Roxy as they danced the tango - the song that was playing wasn't suitable for such a dance, but they somehow made it work - and Harry’s heart swelled shamelessly with pride. Eggsy  _ had _ improved beyond all expectations, and there was a  _ chance _ that, with Roxy guiding him through mistakes and nerves, they could get through the qualifiers.

Harry nodded. Merlin stared at him gormlessly.

“Close your mouth, Merlin,” Harry jibed, “You’re not a fish.”

“You nodded.”

“Yes, I did,” Harry agreed, still bobbing his head gently up and down, “Eggsy and Roxy can dance in  _ Espion Globale _ ,” Harry paused, glanced up at Eggsy’s face and caught the shining gaze of his new star student, and said, with a smile, “I have faith in the boy.”

-

_ Eggsy _

 

Eggsy had - a bit understandably, he thought - thrown up after Harry had told him and Rox what their first dance competition was going to be. Even Eggsy, who had been off the formal dance radar his whole life, had heard of  _ Espion Globale. _ Every single person on the planet knew about that competition.

_ Roxy was sat with her hand on Eggsy’s forehead, holding Eggsy’s gross sweaty hair out of his eyes as he retched into the loo. _

_ “If it’s any consolation,” she said, quietly, “I threw up the night before my first competition.” _

_ Eggsy swallowed, trying not to chuck his guts up again, “Yeah, Rox, but your first competition wasn’t fucking  _ Espion Globale _ ,” Roxy hummed in agreement and Eggsy continued, “And you’ve been dancing your whole bloody life. I ain’t.” _

_ “You have.” _

_ “Not like this, though. I din’t even know tango ‘til last week.” _

_ “I suppose not,” Roxy replied. She stroked Eggsy’s forehead, smiling down at him as if they’d been friends their whole damn lives, “At least we have a few days to prepare a routine.” _

_ Eggsy laughed instead of vomiting, “A few days. Great!” _

Roxy had demanded that they dance to  _ Here Comes The Hotstepper _ , which Eggsy had heard of, but hated. Eggsy did some digging around YouTube and found a faster, more upbeat remix of the song which matched the style he and Roxy could dance to. Truthfully, Roxy and Eggsy were both best at ballet (according to Merlin) but Harry had suggested contemporary dance to ‘make Eggsy more comfortable’.

It was at times like that Eggsy wished he was married to Harry or something, just so he could snog him for being so fucking sweet.

“I’m still not sure about this song, Eggsy,” Roxy said. She was in her usual leotard and pink ballet shoes -  _ not _ her pointe ones, which she had actually wanted to wear for some stupid reason - and Eggsy was wearing the same.

He had pink shoes, and he was a fucking manly man.

“We need a quick song,” Eggsy complained, stretching his right leg out on the barre, leaning over his knee and reaching out for his pointed toes, “Why not this one? It’s cool.”

The song in question was blaring through the speakers on a loop so they could get used to it. They already had a routine sorted (thanks to the theoretical help from Harry and the  _ actual  _ help from Merlin) so it was just a question of getting the moves right.

Hell, they worked well together. They were going to smash the qualifiers.

The music started again, and Eggsy moved into the centre of the room. He dropped into the routine, hardly thinking about the movements, just watching his reflection move across the mirrored wall.

Roxy sighed and snapped the thick bands of her leotard against her shoulders. She came to her position beside Eggsy and started dancing just as the chorus played. Their movements ricocheted off one another perfectly. As Roxy’s left leg kicked out, Eggsy’s right did the same. Eggsy performed a shoulder roll on the ground with his left shoulder, and Roxy did exactly the same with her right.

He could feel a gross film of dust gathering on his hands after a few runs of the chorus. This routine had them both on the ground a lot, swapping sides and doing weird gymnastic shit in time with the music.

“So,” Roxy wasn’t even that breathless, damn her to hell, “You seem to be getting along well with Harry.”

Eggsy missed a beat and tripped over his own feet. He cursed and caught himself, hoping Roxy hadn’t noticed.

“I saw that.”

“Shut up,” Eggsy spat, “I’m getting along with you, too, ain’t I?”

Roxy performed a cartwheel and a drop split, hardly reacting to the thud of her heel on the floor even though the sound sent a shiver down Eggsy’s spine. She replied as she rose back to a standing position, “It’s different with me, and you know it.”

“You shouldn’t split so hard,” Eggsy mumbled after performing a static backflip, “You’re gonna break your ankles.”

Roxy huffed, “Eggsy. Ballet is my speciality. I can do a damn split. And stop changing the subject!”

Together, they closed off the dance and, in the brief interlude between the end of the song and the looped beginning of it, Eggsy smiled innocently at Roxy, arms by his sides, “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about. I’m not changing the subject.”

The door to the studio opened with a bang and Charlie walked in, grinning, kitted in his Kingsman leotard and matching black Oxfords. Charlie was a ballroom dancer, like Harry, and he rarely wore ballet shoes.

“What subject?” Charlie asked, happy as anything.

Eggsy dropped his routine and settled with his arms in fifth position, raised up above his head. He flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles, watching Charlie as he stretched against the barre along the mirrored wall. God, he was hot. It was fucking  _ ridiculous _ how hot Charlie was.

“We were talking about Harry,” Roxy explained, grinning toothily at Eggsy, “Eggsy’s got a crush on him.”

“Rox!” Eggsy yelped, dropping out of his position, “What the fuck?!”

“So it’s true!” Roxy laughed, and Eggsy wanted to throw a damn brick at her. She went to stand beside Charlie next to the mirror, both of them staring at Eggsy.

“I  _ knew _ you had a thing for him,” Charlie smirked, “You hardly even look at Roxy while Galahad’s in the room, and  _ everyone _ knows Roxy is the sexiest Kingsman.”

Roxy rolled her eyes, then advanced on Eggsy, pulling him into a reluctant box step, “Charlie’s right. You’ve had your eyes on Harry since the day you started with us. And yes, I  _ am _ the sexiest Kingsman, as Charlie so rightly said. I just wish you’d told us you were gay, Eggsy!”

Eggsy snorted, “Piss off. I ain’t gay. I like women.”

“And Galahads,” Charlie butted in, earning him a flip of Eggsy’s middle finger.

“ _ And _ men. Not…  _ specifically _ ‘Galahads,’” Eggsy continued, refusing to meet Roxy’s gaze. He wasn’t about to admit to the two gossip twins that he might have a teeny tiny crush on Harry. He wouldn’t live it down. Fuck that; he wouldn’t make it to the end of the week without Harry finding out, “I’m bisexual. So what?”

Charlie, on the edge of the room, held his hands up, “Whoa there, Eggsy. No prejudice here. I'm bisexual, too.”

“And me!” Roxy said in a ridiculously singsong voice, “Look at us! We’re the bisexual bunch!”

“That better not catch on,” Eggsy complained.

Roxy laughed and danced him around the room a few more times, adding fancy little maneuvers to their simple box step. She spun Eggsy out away from her, sending him twirling across the floor right into Charlie’s waiting arms. Eggsy snorted as Charlie picked up the slack, waltzing Eggsy around the room, his shoes clicking wonderfully against the hardwood flooring. Charlie smiled at him the whole time, the proper joy in his eyes making Eggsy smile, too.

“You're good at this waltz crap,” Eggsy mumbled when sweat began to prickle on his brow, “‘M impressed.”

“You should be,” Charlie whispered, pulling Eggsy tighter against him by tugging their joined hands higher up, stretching Eggsy’s abdomen. Eggsy swallowed hard, captivated by Charlie’s gaze. He didn't know if the piercing look he was giving Eggsy was all for show or if he was  _ actually _ staring into Eggsy’s soul, but either way Eggsy was turned on and faltering every other step.

Boners were hard to hide when you were dressed in a leotard that was basically a second skin. Charlie dipped Eggsy and held him in that low position for a few moments. Eggsy felt like he was going to faint.

“This doesn't look like contemporary dance,” a voice suddenly broke through the lull of the music and Eggsy’s panting breath.

Eggsy looked towards the voice. Aw, fuck. Harry. In his leotard. That wasn't helping Eggsy’s hard-on one bit.

He glanced back up at Charlie, who was still holding him in a dip, and who was  _ still _ grinning furiously.

“Good morning, Galahad!” Charlie said, cheerfully.

Eggsy’s knees began to shake. Charlie’s hand was very low down on his back, his fingers almost on Eggsy’s arse. He looked up at Harry to distract himself. Harry was staring at Eggsy with his intense burning gaze again, running his eyes along the quivering length of Eggsy’s body, and Eggsy couldn't decide if he wanted to cry or run over and shove him against a wall.

“You're meant to be practicing,” Harry said, dangerously quiet, “And while your form is admirable, Mr Hesketh, you are not involved in this session.”

Charlie spluttered and pulled Eggsy into a standing position, “But--”

“ _ No _ .”

Harry’s expression had actually darkened with every passing second and he looked  _ so fucking intense _ . Charlie followed Harry’s gaze, and when he looked at Eggsy his eyes widened. A knowing smile curved his lips - Eggsy swore silently at that, wishing Charlie a slow death - and he left the room, nodding at Harry.

“I’m going to, er--” Roxy sidled along the side of the room, alternating between staring at Harry and grinning at Eggsy, “I’ll be back in five minutes, Eggsy.”

Eggsy nodded glumly, and set about stretching out his muscles against the barre, trying his best to ignore Harry. He wrapped his left hand around the barre, and turned his hips out to face the mirrors on the opposite wall. Usually, he watched himself, but now he watched Harry. Eggsy extended his right leg out to the side and, holding the outside of his foot with his right hand, he slowly pulled his leg upwards until it was parallel with his body. He glanced over at Harry and waggled his eyebrows, knowing it would drive him up the wall.

Harry made a strange noise and covered it with a cough. Eggsy stifled a laugh, but quickly sobered up when Harry walked towards him.

God. He hadn’t seen Harry up close since the  _ Espion Globale _  announcement; had been too wrapped up in practice to go to his daily dance lessons. He’d honestly forgotten how insanely hot Harry was.

And, oh, fuck. He was  _ hot _ . 

“You can lift your leg higher,” Harry said, quietly, distracting Eggsy for just a second.

“My form is perfect, mate.”

“I'm not insulting your form, Eggsy,” Harry whispered, his tone low and intimate, disgustingly inappropriate and six kinds of sexy all at once, “I just think that…” Harry’s hand came to rest on Eggsy’s raised calf, gently pushing against the tight muscle there, “With a little help…” Harry’s other hand slid down to the back of Eggsy’s thigh, just above his knee, his palm hot against Eggsy’s skin, and  _ fuck _ , this wasn't helping how turned on Eggsy was, “You could be a lot more flexible.”

Eggsy stuttered out a breath when Harry pushed against him. Harry pressed his upper body against Eggsy, using the force of his chest to gently maneuver Eggsy’s leg into a different position. They were bare inches apart, and Harry’s hand was sliding further down, down, down, pushing into the meat of his thigh.

“Har--” Eggsy gasped, completely embarrassed at how girly and breathy he sounded, “ _ Harry _ .”

“Eggsy?” Harry looked up at Eggsy’s eyes, and Eggsy saw that his pupils were blown, knew that his were, too, and cursed every person on the fucking planet for letting him meet Harry Hart.

The heel of Harry’s hand brushed against Eggsy’s crotch when he moved his hand another inch further down Eggsy’s leg, his touch featherlight but far too much.

Eggsy  _ moaned _ .

“Eggsy! I'm back!”

Harry flinched and the barely-there pressure on Eggsy disappeared. Harry pulled away, and, after a final heated look at Eggsy, turned to face Roxy -  _ damn _ her - with a smile plastered on his face - and damn him too. Eggsy, feeling depressingly sober, drunk and high all at once, slowly lowered his leg down to its normal position, eyes on the flushed nape of Harry’s neck and the way Harry’s hands had come to rest folded above his crotch.

At least Eggsy wasn't the only one with the hard-on. Eggsy considered it an effing victory, and turned to face the barre for another stretch with a grin on his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr [here](http://clokkerfoot.tumblr.com/).


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